


Winter

by AkiYumeha



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiYumeha/pseuds/AkiYumeha
Summary: Sylvia remembers the warmth of winter the most.
Relationships: Sylvia/Eleanore
Kudos: 2





	Winter

_Sylvia remembers the warmth of winter the most._

As snow falls and white blankets the lawn of the estate, every year, without a fail, the servants will be made witness to the sheer idiocy of a noblewoman walking around with what appears to be a sentient lump of blanket. From the bedchambers to the studies, the dining room, the library, and even to the toilet, Sylvia thinks, had she not put her foot down on that one, the lump latches onto her arm and refuses to let go. It annoys her truly. Its inconvenient, a burdensome interruption to her duties as the duchess of Hennessy.

“Sylvi. Hey. Sylvi?” Bright amethyst eyes peeks at her from the shadows of the rolled silken duvet – _she’ll have to get a new one, this one has been dragged throughout the entire mansion, she absolutely refuses to sleep with that again –_ the cloth not quite concealing the loose waves of ebony hair of her companion. A clear contrast to her own snowy locks bound in her preferred tight tail.

“Eli?” Without stopping their slow gait along hallway leading to her study, Sylvia spares the woman a glance at the usual mischievous tone she hears. As a small grin greets her silver eyes, she wonders what it was this time. The last she saw of that particular expression, it was during the royal ball celebrating the king’s reign, and she’s had to kneel in the ancestor’s hall of reflection after for hopes of maybe assuaging their spirits for what Eleanor made her do.

“So I was thinking-“ “A bad omen surely-“ “We haven’t christened your new table yet” At that she firmly meets Eleanore’s eyes, her gaze sharpening at the suggestive smirk she sees form on those soft lips. Suddenly, she’s aware of where exactly her right arm was pressed against, the thin material of her white sleeves doing nothing to hinder the softness she feels against her. Sylvia says nothing as her eyes drifts to the simple dress of her companion, the deep blue of her clan’s color. _Ah, such hilarity. The most celebrated dame of Dantalia reduced to this._

Only Eli’s soft giggles accompanies the soft clacks of her boots against the carpeted floor as it quickens.

_She’ll have to kneel in the hall again._


End file.
